Saving Seeds vs Genetically Engineered Seeds

or Grandpa Knew Best!

 

When we bought our first farm, my new bride insisted on having a vegetable garden. For advice, I visited with the oldest nurseryman in San Antonio. This old gentleman only had a forth grade education, however his knowledge of plants was vast. There were many plants carrying his name. The Texas A&M professors called him when they ran into problems. While looking over his seed rack I ask the old gentleman if all these varieties were adapted to our area. His answer was "some what" then he gave me a sermon, he said "son if you want something really good for your farm, you have to develop it yourself. You start out with these broadly adapted varieties and save your own seed from the best of the first fruit each year, then eventually you will have plants that are perfectly happy on your farm. Being young with still a little know-it-all attitude, I didn't heed his advice. It seemed like too much trouble. Years later I got to see excellent proof of what the old man was talking about.

My family and I finally found the time to visit the farm my wife's mother grew up on. Two old uncles were still working the place. These old fellows weren't very friendly or talkative; they didn't care for city people, but when they learned we too lived on a farm they changed and were willing to show me the whole place. These old fellows had a fine collection of antiques, everything on the farm was old but still in working condition and still being used. The newest piece of farm equipment was an early model Allis Chalmers tractor to replace the draft animals. One old mule was still alive but he didn't have to work anymore, the tongs of all the horse drawn equipment were cut short and pulled behind the Allis Chalmers.

It was really interesting to tour around this old farm. The old-timers enjoyed showing and telling history. The cornfield was last; it was the surprise of the tour. This was a dry land farm with the stalks having ample spacing. That was the tallest and best corn I have ever seen. Each stalk had two or three big ears. These uncles were really proud of their corn. When I finally looked down I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The corn was growing in a solid stand of nut sedge. I ask the closest uncle how could they possibly grow a crop in nut grass this thick? The old uncle's answer was simple and short "that's what keeps the soil rich" he said. That was hard for me to believe but no way was I going to argue.

I asked the uncles what variety corn they planted. They said that when their mom and pop got married, one was German decent and the other Polish, each brought a corn from home: one was bloody butcher red and the other was a yellow dent. They planted them together and had equal red and yellow kernels on each ear.

They told how their dad always selected the best of the best for next year's seed and they had followed pop's example. They said the selection had gone on for the past 82 years.

I ask for some of that seed. They proudly went into the barn and filled me a sack of their finest. Long beautiful ears, no sigh of corn earworm and there were 22 rows of seed on each cob.

I couldn't wait for planting season. Just think what I could do in my composted, irrigated, black land without nut grass. Planting season finally came; those rows got the best of care, and I wouldn't let anyone take roasting ears from that patch. The stalks were beautiful, green and tall. Finally harvest time arrived. But, what a big disappointment. I had shucks and cobs but not a single grain filled out in the whole patch. I got more seed from the uncles for next season, and another disappointment. I had yet to grow a single grain of that corn. Those many years of selection had developed the perfect specimen for shallow plowing in sandy soil and with no fertilizer. Was the nut grass really helping? Maybe it had some beneficial symbiotic association with the corn.

Years later we visited the Yorktown farm again. By that time, the uncles were up in age and had leased some of their land to my wife's cousins. The cousins had always believed that grandpa's farm must have super rich soil in order to grow the huge open-pollinated corn. They assumed that their excellent hybrid corn would grow to new heights on that old farm. To their surprise, the hybrid, even with fertilizer, did no better there than on any other farm.

The cousins gave the uncles a share of the hybrid corn. Like most old farmers, the uncles had a typical farm-a few old hounds, chickens, ducks, cows, and pigs, and of course, the corn was used to feed all of them. For the hounds, they ground corn and cooked it with lard. One day they ground the hybrid corn for the dogs, but the dogs wouldn't eat. They took one sniff, then went and lay back down. The next day they still wouldn't eat, and at first they thought the dogs were sick, until one uncle decided that maybe the dogs wanted the old corn. They cooked up a batch of the old corn and the dogs gobbled it up. Boy, were those dogs hungry! They all got a laugh at the dogs, so they decided to see if the hogs would eat the hybrid. Sure enough the hogs wouldn't touch it. Neither would the chickens, nor the ducks unless they were really starved. Animals have instincts, which tell them which food is the most nutritious for them to eat. A healthy, adapted and well-grown plant will pick all the nutrients from the soil to make it nutritious food animals will prefer. Since humans have lost these instincts maybe we should pay more attention to the animals.

Since this corn had been grown on the same farm for nearly 90 years, and had been constantly upgraded by choosing seed from the very best ears for the next year's crop, it was perfectly adapted to it's particular spot in the world, with nut grass probably helping it some how.

After so many years of selecting the best from the best on the same farm, that corn would never produce as well anywhere else. On the other hand, in its own place no other corn could beat it.

Wouldn't this be valuable today if all farmers had done their own seed selecting? Farmers could be completely independent of the seed companies. The weed problem could be an asset. The product would be most nutritious. It would be much better than the modem hybrid and genetically engineered seed. And it was all done by Nature without a minute of research or dollar spent. Man can just help speed up the natural process of survival of the fittest.

My wife's family has been saving the seed of a "yard-long bean" for as long as she can remember. They would let the beans get thoroughly dry while hanging on the vine, then on a low-humidity, dry day, they would collect them. They put the beans, dry pod and all, in ajar with a good lid to seal them away from mice and weevils.

When we moved to this farm in the summer of 1968, there was a row of strange okra standing in the garden. We saved the seed and gave some to other gardeners. This okra is a fat and meaty variety, which is easy to pick. When it is just right for harvest, it easily snaps off without using a knife. If it won't snap off easily, it will be too old and tough to eat anyway.

I searched all the seed catalogues, but couldn't find a name for this okra. I asked Dr. Sam Cotner, the A&M vegetable specialist, but the okra was unknown to him too. He sent some to an okra specialist who said it looked like okra he'd seen that was not edible, while this okra was delicious.

 

I asked the lady we bought the farm from how she got that seed. She said a man had given some to her aunt years before, and he'd brought it over from another country. We used this okra as one of the main crops on our farm, and the demand soon outstripped our ability to grow and pick it. Mr. Tom Keeter, a noted horticulturist, named it "Beck's Big."

We got a Texas seed company to put it in their catalogue, and that summer my wife and I and the kids harvested a twelve-cubic-yard truck full of seed pods. We hauled the seed to a cousin who had a combine to separate the seeds from the pods. I got a seed cleaner and cleaned and bagged the seed, then loaded my pickup truck full and headed for the seed company. Before much of the seed had been sold, the company went belly up. I never got paid. If anyone wants Beck's Big Okra, you can find it at one of our stores. I always plant some and keep a supply of seeds for friends and customers.

We think we may finally have located the origin of this okra. One day we had several bushels of okra at our packing shed when an elderly gentleman drove up. He introduced himself as a retired colonel interested in buying some organic vegetables. But when he saw the okra, he looked surprised. "Beck, you got that okra! Do you know where that okra came from?" "No," I replied, "tell me."

He said the man who owned the Buckhorn Saloon in San Antonio was touring in Germany many years ago and found that okra. He tried to bring some back, but customs gave him a hard time, so he took the lens off his camera and hid a dozen or so seeds inside. Back home he gave seeds to friends-one of these friends lived about three miles from our farm.

Whether or not this okra actually was smuggled from Germany, we can't be sure. All the people involved are long gone, but I have no reason to doubt the old colonel's story.

Okra seed is about the easiest to save. Just let the pod completely dry on the stalk, and then cut it off with pruning shears. Store it someplace out of the weather. Mice, weevils, and other critters ignore it, and it keeps almost forever. In fact, I have heard that mixing okra seeds with other seeds while in storage repels weevils and other pests.

 

The Garden-Ville Method - Lessons in Nature